Left Behind
by Monsieur Prongs
Summary: An unexpected announcement, empty houses, emails that never get sent, and a message on the answerphone.
1. Chapter 1

"And when were you planning on tell me?" Jim doesn't turn around to face him. Sebastian clears his throat before answering.

"I'm sorry…" Jim's fists clench, but he still doesn't turn around in his chair.

"I take it you weren't."

"No sir." Jim swallows hard and takes a deep breath before finally turning around.

"Why are you asking me then?" Seb frowns, shifting back and forth on his feet.

"Thought you'd like to know…"

"Well of course you can yeah. Just…" Jim turns around again, frown growing on his face. "Text me the details. I've got some things to fix currently, picked a really bad time. Sorry Seb." I glance at him and he nods.

"Yes sir. Thank you sir." Jim nods and Sebastian turns, closing the door behind him. As soon as Jim's sure that Seb has gone down the hall he sits down and sweeps his arms across the top of the table, knocking everything to the floor in a fit of anger.

"What is he thinking? I need him! Here, with me! He's the only one I trust to do anything around here. Dear god this is madness." He rests his head in his hands on the now empty desk top and massages his forehead. "Couldn't have given me at least a two month warning? I've had this planned for nine months, everything is in motion now and I can't change a damn thing." He sighs heavily before standing up and straightening his jacket out. "SEB!" He calls down the hall, knowing full well that Sebastian hasn't left yet. "I'm going out! Don't wait up." He grabs his coat and leaves, letting the door slam behind him. The only thing he can think about it what had been said.

'_So…. I've been thinking.'_

'_About what?' Sebastian fell silent._

'_Going back to the army…' Jim's heart stopped. Dear god, he couldn't be serious. He held his face of indifference well enough, and returned with a question._

'_When?' Sebastian was surprised, Jim didn't seem upset in the least, or surprised for that matter._

'_Wednesday.'_

'_Ah.'_

'_Are you going to let me go?' Seb had asked with pleading in his voice. 'It's just… I don't feel fit for service right now, at least not to you. I need to get back in the game.' Jim hadn't turned around yet._

"I've got to get home and have a nice glass of bourbon." He mumbles to himself. "What a shit way to end the day." His phone buzzes and he pulls it out. Rolling his eyes he unlocks his phone and reads the full message.

_Plane leaves at 06:00._

_Tomorrow._

_-S_

He doesn't even bother to write a reply and just stuffs it in his pocket again. 'Oh for the love of everything sacred' he muses, 'not even a whole day of warning. I suppose…' He fumbles in his pockets for the keys to his large flat and climbs the stairs to the door. With no effort he unlocks the door and tosses the keys onto the table. He sighs, flopping straight onto the couch and grumpily staring at the ceiling. He pulls his phone out again and sets an alarm, sitting up and throwing his jacket over the table. He pulls the cupboard open and retrieves a bourbon glass and the bottle. He pours himself a generous amount and downs it in a heartbeat, filling it again and stopping the bottle.

He presses the glass to his forehead before taking a sip. There's a knock on his door, and he plods down the hall, opening the door with a confused look. He swallows quickly.

"Seb!" He blinks, "What the hell are you doing here?" The blond man laughs before speaking, gesturing to the glass in his hand.

"Already missing me?" Jim just stands there, stunned. The blond man's smile fades and he cocks his head to the side. "Going to let me in?" He blinks again, shaking his head slightly before stepping back.

"What? Yes, of course. Come in. Bourbon?" Sebastian smiles as he closes the door behind himself, entering the kitchen after Jim.

"Sure why not. I could unwind a bit." Jim offers a small smile and pours him a glass.

"Why are you here?" Jim asks again, not willing to ask a third time. Sebastian sighs and sets the glass down before falling silent as if trying to gather his thoughts. He opens his mouth several times in an attempt to say something, closing it because he can't find the words. He bites his bottom lip and swallows hard before speaking.

"Because I wanted to give you this." Short, simple, to the point. He pulls out an envelope and hands it to him. "Do me a favour and don't open it until I'm gone." Confusion floats across Jim's face.

"Problem?" Sebastian smiles crookedly,

"Not yet. But there will be." He downs his bourbon in a few gulps and sets the glass down again. "Are you free tonight?" Jim grins.

"Always. Something in mind?" Seb just shakes his head.

"Just getting pissed with my best mate… If you're up to it of course."

"Of course I'm up to it. It's your last night." Sebastian frowns and Jim's voice dies in his throat before he continues, "I'm not mentioning that again." Sebastian nods.

"Probably for the best Jimmy." He clears his throat awkwardly and hops up onto the counter top, holding his glass out for a refill.

"Pub or are we just staying here then?"

"I'd like to stay here." Jim smiles.

"Sounds great." Sebastian grins at him, sipping his bourbon now, less rushed to get drunk. He hops off the counter, sitting down at the kitchen table and staring into his glass. "You know Seb…. You're my best mate. And…. I'm going to miss you." Sebastian looks up with a smile. "I don't miss people, you know that… I don't have friends, you know that too." He takes a deep breath, decided it's best to get everything, or most everything he wants to say to Seb while he can plead intoxicated. "So take my word as gospel on this Sebastian Moran, you come back in one piece, you come back and you be the same man you were when you left. Because I've lost people. I've lost, so many people in my life and all it does is make me cold, not this. If you…. If my only best mate, if you leave and I get some cheap arse letter in the mail and an email saying that you are dead, I don't know what I'd do. Have you got that?" Seb's face goes through a series of changes, spreading his emotions out like the pages of a book. He's frowning now. "So you just…. You just promise. Right here. Right now, to me. You promise." Sebastian swallows thickly,

"You know I can't promise that Jimmy. You of all people know the tragedies of war. You know there are some things I can't stop." Jim slams his glass down on the counter with an angry grunt.

"Shut up. Shut up shut up shut up! Let me have this much. You owe me. You bloody owe me." Sebastian bites his bottom lip, indecision wracking his thoughts.

"I can't lie to you. You know I can't…" Jim glares at him, "But, I can say I'll try my best, I'll stay safe and keep myself from harm as best I can… You accept that? Can you accept that at all?" Jim is quiet for a moment, knowing that this is the best offer he'll get right now, and it's the only one he'll be able to get. He slides the envelope between his hands on the counter before grudgingly nodding. "Good." Jim nods again, slowly and turns to face him, not saying anything, simply watching him. Normally this would unsettle Sebastian but he feels he owes him, more than that flimsy promise, and he just stares back at him. Without a word he stands up and Jim slowly makes his way through the kitchen, wrapping his arms around Sebastian in a tight hug. He doesn't say a word, just hugs him, because that's what he needs. When he lets go he steps back and clears his throat.

"Sorry." Seb looks at him curiously.

"No, it's fine…" Jim nods and gets himself another glass of bourbon. It's going to be a long night.

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note: In my defense, instead of writing everything that I'm supposed to be updating, I've been working on this. It was just going to be a oneshot but I, being stupid, found that it was just a bit long, what, 1,455 words in the first chapter? Come now. I decided three chapters were enough. On Friday, considering it's been a while for ANYTHING, I've got reviews, and messages to respond too... Friday is going to be a catch up day, and hopefully I'll get to work on a bit of everything. SO, with that, hope you enjoyed, don't forget to review, and send me love because I need it. Thanks, enjoy yourself, and REVIEW.<em>

_Until Gallifrey is free,_

Time Lord Victorious


	2. Chapter 2

It was well past midnight when Sebastian finally left Jim. He woke, slumped over in the armchair across from him, head pounding and an empty glass of bourbon in his hand. Jim lay curled up in the chair, passed out, but looking peaceful, his breathing was soft, and quiet. Seb thought about waking him up for a moment, scolding himself for even thinking that and he put his glass down, fetching the envelope and sticking it to the television with a small piece of tape.

"There you are. Read that before you leave." He gently tousles Jim's hair and fetches his coat, glancing around the darkened house one last time and leaving without a trace.

O

It was his alarm that woke him up, the vibrating is his pocket and the annoying beeping. Jim screwed his eyes shut, trying to block it out as his brain jumpstarted for the morning, a low level headache setting in from the amount of drinking done the night before. He smiles, opening his eyes and searching for Seb across the coffee table. He's startled to see he isn't there. Jim had planned on taking him to the aeroport. …. The aeroport. Jim sits up quickly, rubbing his eyes and straightening out. He glances at the tele, pulling the envelope off and stuffing it in his pocket.

"I'll read it on the way." He screws his face up, searching for his jacket but leaving when he couldn't find it, not bothering to lock the door behind him. He slides into his car, keys in hand, pulling out of the driveway faster than he should and speeding down the street. "Bloody stupid. I should have- He should have woken me up." He checks the time. "Shit. Okay…" Quickly, he calculates a route through traffic that will get him there before six. He swears again, lightly hitting the steering wheel. "Idiot."

OO

Sebastian watches as the plane pulls away, the Earth growing smaller underneath him. He frowns.

"Good bye London." He says quietly and falls silent for some time before speaking in a small whisper again. "Good bye Jim."

OOO

Jim is running through the airport, staring at his phone.

"Nearly six. I've got time. I've got time." He skids to a stop in front of the flight schedule, searching for Seb's flight number. Finding it he scans across for the departure time. Five thirty. His heart sinks. No. No. Seb had said six. Seb had said six hadn't he? Hadn't he? Numbly he recalls the words Seb had said yesterday.

"_Don't open it until I'm gone."_ He had said. Jim sunk into a seated position on the bench next to the schedule. He keeps shaking his head. No. No no no. No. Seb wouldn't do that… Not to him. He wouldn't…. It's just cruel. He wouldn't do that. With trembling hands he reaches into his coat pocket, pulling out the sealed envelope, turning it over several times in his hands before sliding his index finger under the flap and dragging it across, separating the seal from the body of the envelope. He licks his lips before pulling the single sheet of paper out and unfolding it. The sides of his mouth turn up as he recognizes Seb's hand writing.

_Jimmy._

It read.

_Yeah, you probably hate me right now. Which is fine. But I want you to know that I'm shit at goodbyes so that's why I had to go. But don't worry because I'll be coming back. And I'll try and keep in contact as much as possible. Just make sure you take care of yourself. _

It isn't signed. And that's all it says. Jim's lips twitch, as if trying to decide whether to frown or to smile. He bites his bottom lip. He crumples the note in his hand and shoves it in his pocket as he stands up, the feeling of being cold rushing over him.

OOOO

_Month 1 Email 1_

Seb. It's been a month. I've heard nothing from you. What's going on?

_Month 1.5 Email 5_

I've waited two months Sebastian. This is pointless. You don't answer anything anymore…. Hey, I miss you. Sebastian, I think that you'll never get these. I'm saving them in a folder in my email. You go through them anyway. Maybe when you get back you'll look at them. I should have told you… You were busy so I never got around to it. I've had this planned for a while now. Ten and a half months actually. Yes dear, I plan a year ahead…

Anyway, I figure I should tell you, just in case... I was hoping you'd be home by now, but knowing the army, you'll be gone for several months. I just… I want you to know that I've only got three more months to live.

And you aren't here to stop that.

Don't think that I planned this just because I miss you, because I DON'T miss you. At all. I planned this almost a year ago in the hopes that you would save my life. Maybe you still can. I don't know. It's all in the timing. Hey, I don't want you to come home and be so surprised that I'm gone, and think that maybe I killed myself and then feel guilty because you weren't here. No. Because that's totally wrong.

I think that if I keep telling myself that I don't miss you… That maybe it'll come true.

_Month 2 Email 26_

The day of my depart keeps getting closer and it kind of scares me Seb.

_Month 2.5 Email 51_

I have a month and a half, Seb.

And I've finally come to the realization. I need you. I do. I didn't think I did, I thought that it'd be okay, that everything was going to be okay, that you don't really serve a purpose except to shoot for me. And occasionally take me out for drinks and dinner. But… I need you for more than that. I didn't really think about it before. And you know, it's awful because I know I probably won't see you again. I know I considered you my best friend. I didn't really have friends before, so I didn't know how to treat you. You called me your best mate though. You even stayed with me, your final night in London, and you stayed with me. No one has ever done anything like that for me before.

A month and a half.

Maybe you'll get shot and discharged so I can fix this…

That's a bit selfish.

_Month 3 Email 100_

Thirty days.

Thirty days until the end.

Why did you leave me behind Seb? I don't know if I can… Who am I kidding. I can. I can do this myself. I've always done it myself. Always. And I'm Jim Moriarty. I can do anything. I own him. I can manipulate him.

I'm not going to die. I've got things to do still. I've got a whole life I had planned Seb. And, normally, I would say that it's your fault that I'm going to die.

Because it might be.

But… You deserve better than that. Just… Seb, just promise me one thing. Promise me that, when you check these, you'll get him. You'll get that son of a bitch. Because it's all his fault you know. It's all Sherlock's fault. If all goes as planned, he'll be dying that night too. And if I'm very lucky, I'll make his pet watch.

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note: One more chapter. Awyeah. I think the next one's going to be a tear jerker… I hope. I'm not very good at this am I? Oh well. This fandom is perfect. Don't forget to review, and I love you all so… Much love in that department. Thanks so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed it. I'll try to have the last chapter up in a few days. It's getting difficult due to rehearsals, but…. Anyway, don't forget to review, it doesn't bite. I do. <em>


	3. Chapter 3

_Month 3.5 Email 101_

Seb…. There's something I haven't told you…

Ah… Who am I kidding.

It doesn't matter.

Never mind. Forget I said anything. I'll see you in hell, if you make it. You're always late. I'm not sorry… God help me. Yes I am. I'm so so so sorry. But I'm too tired of waiting, too tired of everything to care at this point.

* * *

><p>Jim finishes the email and sets up the timed sending of the emails. Might as well, he figures, Seb probably would never find them at that point. He frowns as he closes his laptop. Coffee. He needs coffee. He had wanted to tell Seb how he felt, but now... He shakes his head. It doesn't matter, not anymore at least. He trudges down the stairs, taking the keys to Seb's flat and slipping into his car. He wants to leave a little something. Coffee at Seb's place... It makes him feel closer. He's been spending far too much time at the empty flat. He thinks it's driving him mad. He sighs as he locks the car and enters the flat through the back door. It only takes a few minutes, and soon he's cradling a cup of coffee. He sits in the kitchen, staring at the wall, absently drinking his coffee. He blows on the mug, trying to cool the liquid and trying to forget that he's alone. He sets the half empty cup of coffee in the center of the table and stands, suddenly making up his mind. He glances around the flat one last time, taking everything in. He runs his fingers over the wood in the entryway as he leaves.<p>

"I'll be back." He whispers quietly, voice echoing slightly off the empty walls. "I'll be back."

* * *

><p>Seb unlocks his flat with a little bit of trouble. He's tired. Exhausted. He wants to be home, he wants to take a nap, he wants to take a shower and then he wants to call Jim. He notices a cup of coffee on his table but thinks nothing of it.<p>

"I see Jim came by. That's nice of him." He says as he stumbles up the stairs to the bathroom. He passes the phone, a small blinking red light alerting him he has a new message. He disregards that as well, bee-lining for the bathroom. Shower. Shower. Shower. Shower. Shower. The same words going through his head. Stripping down he doesn't even wait for the water to warm up before hopping in and letting the cold water flow over his tanned skin. He lets out a small sigh of pleasure as the water warms significantly and he washes the grime of war away. He runs his hands through his short cropped hair and rubs his face. God it feels good. He sits in the tub and lets the water rush over him. He sighs happily and closes his eyes. He doesn't know how long he's been sitting like that by the time he gets out, just that his fingers and toes are wrinkled. He wraps a towel around his waist and heads downstairs. He half expects Jim to already know that he's back and be waiting for him with a scowl on his face. Seb smiles crookedly to himself. He always liked Jim's scowl. It made him laugh. He enters the kitchen and his face falls. The only thing not in it's proper place is the coffee mug on the table. Stone cold. He frowns. The coffee is still half full. Jim doesn't make coffee unless he's intent on drinking it all. He shrugs. Maybe he just got busy. It doesn't bother him at all that Jim was in his house while he was gone. He figures that it was Jim's way of keeping tabs while he's gone. Maybe, if Jim got desperate enough for someone to talk to he would come down to the flat and talk to the empty walls. He smiles at the thought. Sometimes Jim made him think. Most people aren't like that. He wanders around his familiar residence, just trying to get a feel for it all. It's good, he thinks, it's good to be home. He pauses in front of the answerphone, cocking his head to the side in curiosity. Who would leave him a message? Obviously it was most likely Jim, mainly because no one else calls him. But... What would be so important that he couldn't send him an email, but less important that he left a message and didn't call again? He frowns, running his fingers through his damp hair before cautiously touching the play button. Immediately the smooth electronic voice of the answerphone tells him he has a new message. He rolls his eyes. Of course he knows that already. Finally, Jim's Irish voice finds its way through the speakers. Sebastian frowns. Jim's voice is strained. He doesn't even wait for the message to play all the way before rewinding it to see if he's missed something.

"Yeah, it's me. If you're listening to this... Well I suppose that means you're home. Which is good. You've kept yourself safe. Like you said you would." He's got a small chuckle after that and then there's a silence before he continues after taking a deep breath. "I'm at Reichenbach right now... Just waiting. Figured that it would be the last chance I got to say it..." There's another pause and some crackling. Murmured voices can barely be made out before Jim's voice returns over the background noise. "Let me first address my will. I've left everything to you of course. It's behind the painting up the stairs in the study. Combination is the same as always." He clears his throat again, "Secondly, in regards to my feelings at this point in time. I'm accepting the fact that I'm no longer going to be living in a few days time. Hey, Seb, I know you're going to want to leave, right now, to try and talk some sense into me, but listen. There's a file, on my computer. It's saved in my email. It has some things for you. It explains everything. I just..." His voice cracks. Seb blinks. He's bewildered, unbelieving. He doesn't want to believe it at all. He can't. Was Jim saying that he was dying? He grips the table quietly, waiting for his boss to continue. "I'm not happy okay? I can't believe that you left me behind. You didn't think for a second about me, which makes it more... Hurtful I suppose. I'm just as selfish so I understand why... Doesn't make it hurt any less. More so actually." There's another pause. "Anyway, now to get to the root of the problem. I don't want to go Seb. I don't. And I think I know why... You need to hear this from me. Seb, I-" Seb cuts the message off and hurries up the stairs to get dressed. He might have time. He might be able to...

"Jimmy, what have you gotten yourself into?" He murmurs aloud as he grabs his keys, racing out of the house. Jim had mentioned something about Reichenbach once. He hadn't said anything other than the fact that he had plans for it. He books the first flight that he can, Reichenbach. He has to get there. Has to. He's being offered a newspaper, he shuns it. Not wanting to see the daily news. He wonders what Jim was going to say and curses himself for not listening to the rest of the message. When the plane finally touches down, he doesn't even bother to check baggage claim and heads straight for the signal coming from Jim's phone. The only good thing, it seems, that has come from Jim is the fact that he refused to uninstall the GPS tracking on his phone. Made Seb easier to find him he said. Despite the fear of losing Jim forever, Seb smiles a little, hailing a cab to the waterfall sight. When asked why, he said he was curious of the beauty and was meeting a friend. He half expects Jim to be there laughing at him, poking fun at the concerned lines that crease his face.

The climb to the top of the overhanging cliff is long, hard and lonely. Sebastian keeps thinking about the jokes Jim would have made, or the things he would have said to Jim to make him laugh. "Stop it you big sentimental doofus." He scolds himself. "He's at the top of the cliff. You know that. It says, his GPS says. Calm down." The top of the cliff comes into view. It's empty. Sebastian swears loudly, beginning to search the grass for Jim's phone before finally peering over the edge of the overhanging and freezing.

Blood, fabric, broken skin and bones. He's not moving. Oh Christ, he's not moving. Sebastian opens his mouth to call out to him, only a strangled groan of despair managing to make itself audible. He doesn't even stop to plan a route down the cliff-side and scrambles over. Get down there, make sure he's okay. Get down there, make sure he's okay. Rocks tumble and fall into the depths beneath him and he takes the ledges and handholds as fast as possible, scraping his palms up and causing them to bleed. He doesn't notice. He's numb. He splashes down, sending cold water up his legs and causing him to shiver, but that doesn't stop him.

"Oh god. Oh god oh god oh god." He mumbles over and over as he kneels next to Jim Moriarty's broken body. With shaking fingers he holds his index finger to the side of Jim's neck, refusing to focus on his face yet. He waits, trying to find a pulse. He sits there for seven whole minutes searching for a pulse. "Maybe... Maybe he isn't-" He can't even bring himself to think for one second that Jim could be gone for good. "Oh god." He finally pulls his fingers away from Jim's neck and his eyes flit over the slack face. The hints of a small smile still curl his lips and, except for his eyes being closed, Seb could almost see Jim's last moments. He stands up, staring down at the corpse of his former boss, completely numb. He can't feel. There's a hole in his chest and that's all he can feel. A small sob forces itself from him and he bites his bottom lip. "Oh for Christ's sake. You're a soldier..." He kneels down again, positioning Jim's body into a more natural pose, making him seem almost peaceful. Without really knowing what he's doing he bends down and brushes his lips gently to Jim's cold, hard ones, a few salty tears falling from his eyes and dampening the ashen skin. "I'm so sorry..." He murmurs as he stands. He turns, as if to leave the body there but thinks better of it. He can't leave Jim like that. No. Jim deserves a burial. A proper remembrance. It'll be an unmarked grave of course, but that doesn't matter so much.

Sebastian Moran spends the rest of the evening talking to a corpse as he digs a hole for it.

He mumbles useless stuff mostly. Scolding Jim for his stupidity, talking about how he missed him and got him a few things from Syria, staring at it as he digs, careful to avoid dumping the earth onto the pale, sunken skin. When the grave is dug Seb sits down in the pit, holding onto his knees and staring at the walls.

"You deserved so much more you bastard." He murmurs quietly as he stands. He furrows his brow in anger, kicking the corpse, rather than being delicate and gentle as before, into the pit, covering it with soil and patting the top when he's done. He glances at the scenery, picking out several landmarks and marking the head of the primitive grave with a stone, before leaving in a hurry. He stores the fold-away shovel in his backpack, surprised that customs had even let him carry it. He's trying to think about anything but Jim, anything but the awful truth. More than once on the plane ride back to London, he finds his nails digging into his palms and his lips trembling. "Your'e better than this Seb." He says to himself. He knew that one day Jim would die. He knew he would. When he gets home he tosses the bag to the floor and heads for the answerphone, pressing play. It's been a few days but the machine knows where it stopped and picks the message up again where it had left off. Right, where it had left off.

"love you Sebastian Moran. I know I never said anything, but to be honest, I didn't know until you left. I love you. I love you and I'm sorry. Hate me please. It'll help you feel better. I'm sorry you can't do anything. I'll be dead by the time you get this. Without a doubt. Unless fate decides to stop being a cruel master, you'll probably not even find out until several months after the event. And darling, if Sherlock gets away... I suppose I don't have to tell you what to do anymore... I'm dead... God that's weird... I'm talking to the future from the past, the future being my death..." Jim laughs awkwardly. Sebastian is barely holding it together, he's sunk to the floor, head in hands.

"Oh god. Oh god oh god oh god." He mumbles over and over again. There isn't much he can say at this point. Jim's voice continues,

"Anyway... Don't feel bad for me, I want you to know that I'm sorry and that I love you and-" There is more cackling and mumbled conversation on the other end, followed by a Jim's voice. He's rushing now. "I have to go. I love you. I want you to open the emails, I'm not there to feel awful and delete them so... They're saved under the file 'Leverage' in my email. I love you. Catch you later Sebastian." The phone clicks off and the electronic recording is back. "You have no, unheard messages."

Sebastian curls into a tight ball in the middle of the hallway, squeezing his eyes shut. It hurts. God it hurts. He can't breathe, he can't see or smell, or feel. All he can experience is the pain and loss deep inside. He hadn't even known that... "Jim you goddamned bastard." His voice is thick with tears, "I love you too damn you. I love you too."

_Three Months Later_

Sebastian couldn't bring himself to open the emails until now, and even so, he's wary. He doesn't know what to expect. Taking over Jim's residence, he sometimes forgets that he's dead and that the house is only occupied by himself... Jim had more money than Sebastian had originally thought. He knew Jim had a lot, but just how much had never really occurred to him. He can't bring himself to spend it, living well under his means and being content... Well kind of. The paper had said that neither body had been found. Lies. The consulting criminal had died at the bottom of the waterfall, while the consulting detective had been allowed to escape. Not for long... Sebastian's fingers hover over the mouse, debating whether or not to open the emails or not. Finally, he clicks them open and one hundred and one emails flood the screen. He gulps, trying to reign his emotions in.

"Oh god. Jim. What did you do?" He asks in awe.

"I wrote them all for you... Never could bring myself to send them. You know I'm horrible about that kind of stuff." Jim's velvet voice caresses Sebastian's ear and he jumps, twirling around. He finds Jim standing over his shoulder with a small smile on his face. "Scared you didn't I?" Sebastian stares, unable to speak for several minutes.

"You aren't here. You can't be here." Jim smiles.

"I'm here Sebastian. Always. But..." He places a freezing cold hand to Sebastian's face and looks him in the eye. "You have to wake up now I'm afraid. I need avenging. You have to wake up." Seb shakes his head several times to emphasize how much he doesn't want to wake up.

"I can't be sleeping. I don't remember falling asleep. If you're here, then I want to stay."

Jim simply observes him sadly. "You can't. You know you can't. I'm sorry, but you have to wake up now." He presses his lips to Seb's briefly before disappearing into the mist.

Seb sits up in his bed, tears streaming down his cheeks. "Jim you bastard. Why can't you stay gone?" He moans pathetically to the ceiling. Moriarty's voice seems to float around the room, tickling Sebastian's ears.

"Because you still need to stop him. Make me proud soldier boy." Had it been anyone else's voice, Sebastian would have thought he was going mad, but he needed to hear Jim's voice. He needed it. He had been left behind, and that's the only straw he can grasp.

"Kill Sherlock Holmes? No problem."

* * *

><p><em>Author's note: That took LOADS longer than I wanted it too and I had to rewrite half of it. There you are. Finished completely. I'm not proud. In fact... I don't think I like it very much. BUT outside opinions are always welcome. Review buttons don't bite, I do when I don't get reviews. So please, let me know what I did well, what I didn't do well and how I can fix it... Time to work on a new project...<em>

_Until Gallifrey is free, I am yours,_

Time Lord Victorious


End file.
